


ONE NIGHT ONLY

by vanhunks



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 19:54:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7328290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanhunks/pseuds/vanhunks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They valued their friendship, Kathryn perhaps more than Chakotay. It was comfortable, safe. But then Chakotay tells Kathryn that he needs to move on. Yes. The object of his new affection? Kathryn doesn't seem to take it well... <br/>Set near end of year seven, just before they reach the Alpha Quadrant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ONE NIGHT ONLY

**Author's Note:**

> Mary, for the betareading of this story.
> 
> Disclaimer: Paramount owns the characters. 
> 
> Written for the 2007 "Spring fling" on VAMB, now revised.

PART ONE: THE FRIENDSHIP THING

Music filled the room, soft strains that suited the winding down period of the day and soothed frayed nerves and the eased pressures of their daily tasks. After a twelve hour shift for both of them, they needed this time of the evening to unwind with inconsequential talk, even the odd giggles and laughs that accompanied such talks. Old Blues Eyes never sounded better than when he sang romantic songs. "Someday" was rendered in a mellow voice designed to let its listeners let their hair down or indulge in maudlin recollections of first loves, sweet sixteen kisses, that first sexual encounter…

Kathryn sighed inwardly as she relaxed in Chakotay's company. They were in her quarters but he had insisted on preparing their meal. The first few minutes he had busied himself with setting the table, ordering her to put her feet up on her couch until he called for her. She hadn't demurred, content to let him get on with preparing dinner while she lay back and closed her eyes and thought, illogically, of the dining room in her Indiana home. 

Very soon they'd be home…

It was good being with her first officer, colleague, mentor and friend. If only she could let go, just allow her emotions to dictate her decisions… Sighing again she stared up, only to see him glaring at her.

"Eat, Kathryn," Chakotay said as he seated himself opposite her. "It's always best when eaten straight from the replicator…"

She wanted to giggle, but stifled it when she noticed Chakotay's mock-jaundiced look. True, the salad looked crisp and inviting with what appeared like water droplets on the fresh lettuce. 

"Chakotay, did you sprinkle the lettuce with water?" she asked, lifting the laden fork to her mouth.

He nodded, eating his food with a delicacy that never ceased to amaze her. Seven years on Voyager and Chakotay still managed to surprise her. She treasured their weekly dinners, always looking forward to them with the rush of childish expectations when they could leave behind crew matters, departmental reports, the never-ending problems associated with travelling in the Delta Quadrant. This was their time when they could take off their jackets, let their hair down and relax in each other's company. 

"So, what news from your mother?" Chakotay asked. 

"She's in great spirits. Tells me she's met someone. Wouldn't divulge a name, but he's in Starfleet."

"No name, huh?" 

"I have a hunch. She mentioned his name in a previous communication. Rather off-hand too. Too off-hand, now that I think about it. I'm happy for her. For Phoebe too. She told me Phoebe is expecting their second child."

"That's great news indeed."

"It would be great if Mother didn't bug me about my love life."

Chakotay chortled. "What have you told her this time?"

"The usual. I don't have time for love, I don't have time for a relationship. I don't have time to invest in one. I cannot see children or babies anywhere in my immediate future . Besides…" Kathryn paused, keeping her eyes on Chakotay who seemed suddenly interested in moving his food about his plate. "Are you listening, Chakotay?"

"Of course, I'm listening," he said, looking at her with a smile on his face. "It's just that I know what you're going to say next."

"You don't - "

"You told your mother that you have someone who - "

"Well," she cut in, "I do have someone. He's the greatest friend anyone could have. He has stood by me more times than I can remember. My best friend. After almost seven years, I still cannot imagine a day without him…" 

"Yes, I guessed that was what you were going to say."

"Chakotay! I have everything I need, I could want. You're my best friend. What more could I want?"

"For your best friend to move on?" Chakotay asked with the suddenness of a spitting snake.

Kathryn almost choked on her food, gulped, swallowed, then sat still for a full ten seconds before being able to breathe again. The thought came to her that she had done most of the talking, that Chakotay had been less forthcoming than usual, more introspective. Was that why he had insisted that he cook? So she wouldn't notice? 

"W-what did you say?" she asked, her voice little more than a croak. The food suddenly tasted off, bitter. Chakotay sat there looking serious all of a sudden.

"We are best friends. I thought if I mentioned I'm moving on, that you would be happy for me. Best friends do that, don't they?" 

Her mind off the food altogether, she asked, "Move on? We're within weeks of home. Where would you move?" It was a stupid question. It made her sound childish. But the niggling fear grew and blossomed. 

"Why? With…whom?"

"I've asked Seven of Nine - Annika - on a date."

Kathryn almost rocked up in her chair, but willed herself to remained rooted, breathing as if the news hadn't surprised her. But it did. Her palms felt clammy.

"And…us?" she croaked again.

"Friends as we've always been, Kathryn. Our weekly dinner engagements as usual. You do understand, don't you?"

She nodded, rendered mute all of sudden. She considered Seven of Nine, woman-child with a surprising sensuality of which she seemed unaware, her snake-like saunter down any corridor, her insatiable need for human interaction which, to Kathryn's mild astonishment, had obviously developed to include a sexual relationship with someone on board Voyager. That someone being Chakotay… And while Seven of Nine might be a woman-child now, soon she'd be all woman with all its concomitant wiles and smiles that women knew to get a man. 

Never had she considered Annika Hansen a contender for Chakotay's affection. Suddenly now, with alarming disquiet, the thought that there'd be a relationship soon after a first date became decidedly unpalatable and like a bitter pill, hard to swallow while the unpleasant aftertaste teased for hours on end. 

"Kathryn…?"

Pulling herself together she rewarded him with a bright smile. She couldn't change his mind. He was an adult male well aware of his sexual and emotional needs, and if those needs didn't include her, Kathryn, the "so be it" that dared to slip into her thoughts sounded like a death knell. Men and women could exercise their rights, pursue their preferences without fear of reprisal whenever or wherever and with whom they liked. How could she blame Chakotay? Or censor him?

Reaching forward, she let her hand rest over his. 

"I'm happy for you, Chakotay. Really." 

His dimples deepened in the acknowledgement.

"Thank you. I value your blessing, Kathryn."

She nodded, continuing the rest of her meal that tasted of sawdust. Inside, her emotions churned and warred and threw her into disarray. She had never for a single instant considered that Chakotay might want things to be different. What they had as friends, she realised belatedly and with great sickening regret, was not enough to hold him to her. It was not enough for him.

She wanted Chakotay the friend, the confidant, the first officer, the competitor at Velocity, her dinner mate once a week without the nuisance and drag of indulging in anything more than that. She could only focus her energy on her one true mission in the Delta Quadrant – to get her people home. That was her morning song, her evening vespers, her daily intermittent plea to a higher power, that they reach home safely. 

"You'll always have my blessing, Chakotay. So, when is your date?"

"Still to be set, but probably before the week is out. We're both busy…"

"We'll still have our weekly meals, I take it?" She knew he had given that assurance, but she needed confirmation. Of what? That she needed time to change his mind? 

"Of course."

"Good."

Long after Chakotay had left for his own quarters, Kathryn wondered about the way his eyebrow lifted and the dimple just lightly denting to encourage a smile. Was he taunting her? Having fun at her expense? 

***** 

PART TWO: LONGING

She felt isolated. She desperately wanted to talk to him about it but couldn't. She had not realised how private she really was until now, when the very thought of confessing her dilemma to any of her senior officers brought on a feeling of nausea. Tuvok would shrug and tell her that missed opportunities should not be viewed with regret. Life went on, that was what he would probably say. B'Elanna? Tom? Harry?

Mentally ticking off the list of would-be confessors, Kathryn became more and more reclusive. While she interacted with the crew, they were unaware of her quandary. Once she had almost spoken with the EMH, but she was in no mood for his acerbic comments. 

In the week that followed, she spotted Chakotay and Seven together, often just exchanging small talk or sitting in the mess hall. At times she thought they were discussing her, becoming hushed when she appeared in their midst. Seven of Nine looked regal, once with her blonde hair hanging loose, another time with a girlish ponytail. Gone was the severe tight knot. 

Seven looked amenable. Kathryn couldn't hate her, the jealousy that had begun to eat into her suppressed to a dull throb. She loved Annika Hansen as she would her own daughter. She had nurtured the inexperienced Borg, gently tutored her in the ways of humanity. Seven looked upon Kathryn as a mentor, someone whom she could trust. Why shouldn't she be happy for the former Borg? 

Kathryn felt her insides churn again. Had she been too blind to notice Chakotay was drifting from her? Their most recent dinner date in her quarters had been conducted in silence, both of them consumed with their own thoughts. She had sensed it would happen, that moving on would blight anything they had had before that. A friendship marred, she decided. Perhaps the time had come to stop their weekly dinners and confine their conversations to board meetings and progress reports in her ready room. 

Chakotay appeared even more relaxed and the feeling that he was falling in love with Seven of Nine was suddenly a reality. She even felt he was taunting her at times. Not in a blatant manner. In fact, it was nothing but his normal behaviour in which she seemed to see demons, crazy and unfounded fears of intentions of hurting her. No, she realised, his behaviour was unaffected, as he had always been towards her - friendly, playful, always still smiling, always still with that look of wanting to be beside her forever. 

Except now there was someone else within his orbit. 

_"Do you fuck her, Chakotay?"_

_"Fuck? Kathryn? What do you mean?"_

_"That is what I mean."_

_"Then I tell you that I don't fuck her, Kathryn. But we do make love."_

_"But I'm your friend. Shouldn't you fuck me too?"_

_"I would have if you’d let me. Way back on New Earth."_

_"Well, you know what they say about frigid queens - "_

_"Frigid? You had it all, Kathryn. You weren't prepared to give any of it. Now I have what I want_."

 _"I'll make it better for you_."

 _"What? You want to fuck your first officer? The Captain of Voyager wants a fuck_?"

 _"Yes_ …"

She had imagined this conversation, imagined her own vulgarity and lack of breeding when confronting Chakotay with just such a command. Kathryn groaned in consternation. The water of her shower steamed as it made contact with her cool skin, heating her body. 

There was no doubt about it. Now that Chakotay was lost to her, she wanted him, even if just to touch him. She pictured him naked with her in the shower. Her soapy hands caressed her sleek body, the planes of her stomach, the rise of her breasts. In the throes of some illicit, strange passion, she allowed her hands, her fingers to roam, to touch places that needed the release, that craved for it. If she couldn't have Chakotay, she'd help herself to her own body, in the privacy of her shower. Her hand brushed the tuft of curls at her mound and as one finger lightly touched a fold, her cleft began to drip, slick from her own moistness. Emboldened by the sudden fire that began to rage through her, Chakotay's smiling face and dimples receded in the face of her increasing desire to pleasure herself. Open-mouthed, the water trickled past her sun-kissed parched lips, inciting her more as her fingers explored her wet folds, whipping herself into a frenzy of rapture. Her mind whirled, liberating her from inhibition as her free hand squeezed her left breast, stroking the nipple until it was hard and sensitised. 

But it was her vulva that demanded attention. Fingers deftly parted folds as she spread her legs, water dripping between them. 

She moaned deeply as her fingers probed, probed, found the little nub, untrained, untouched for so long by other hands. Desire swept through her as she stroked her clit, working her into a state of sensuality. Her breathing halted, deep gasps joined by little moans of pleasure as she began to arch into her own fingers, her hips mimicking deep thrusts. Hoarse croaks accompanied the movement of her body. Her eyes were closed in mindless ecstasy as she rode herself and reached a keening climax. Trembling, shuddering, her fingers released her and she slumped against the shower wall. 

She didn't know whether the water that had run down her cheeks were tears. She didn't care. Her orgasm had left her drained, left her crying for more, yet she remained strangely unfulfilled. The same feeling had assailed her the night before and the night before that. When had it started? Since Chakotay's cool announcement that he was going to date Seven of Nine? 

Wringing these tortured orgasms from self-induced lust left her stranded, with a feeling of creeping jealousy, an echoing void of regrets. It might be how she'd satisfy herself for the rest of their journey home, and indulging herself with any other male crewmember was not something she had remotely entertained. Nor wanted to. 

All she knew with certainty was that fucking herself was never going to be enough.

*** 

The idea of marching up to Chakotay and demanding that he choose her had become a disturbing thought filled with dark desires, lack of dignity, lack of respect and of losing his, her lack of moral fortitude and swallowing pride.

Yet every time she saw them together - though in surprising fairness, that wasn't often - she wanted to run up to him and ask - demand that he rethink his future. Kathryn didn't know whether they were sleeping together. The thought of Chakotay and Seven lying entangled in satin sheets intensified the growing resentment, the jealousy that had come to sit on her shoulder like an unwelcome guest and evil tempting angel.

One night barely ten days later, she was on her way to Chakotay's quarters. Just as she approached the doors of his cabin, they opened and Seven of Nine stepped into the corridor.

"Captain Janeway," Seven started with blushless candour, "you wish to see Commander Chakotay."

An unnecessary statement of fact, Kathryn had thought. Seven had just been mouthing a platitude, but she looked alive, her eyes animated, more human than Kathryn had ever seen her. Seven had stalked off without waiting for an answer and Kathryn had let the doors slide close again, wondering what had just hit her. 

Her purpose in coming to Chakotay that night suddenly deflated, she had given a big sigh and walked quietly away to the nearest turbolift. She had almost gone and demeaned herself before him, to beg that he make a frigid queen warm and loving. Then the nights after that, she had hovered on the brink of lowering herself again, the little angel on her right shoulder steering her away from the danger of plunging into a different kind of darkness. 

Yet now she stood by the doors of his quarters at 0200, ready to press his chime. Her desperation had surpassed her decorum. At two in the morning, he might still be awake. She had to see him. It was her last chance. At least, just to ask. Asking didn't hurt, did it? Her crew was beginning to give her strange looks because they too were seeing the new relationship develop between Chakotay and Seven of Nine. Seems they didn't like it either…

And while she thought that, her fingers were on the chime and she pressed. For a moment her mind closed and shut out the good angel and moral rectitude, self-deprecation, pride. 

Her heart thudded. Ten seconds later - enough time to have changed her mind and run off as quickly as possible - she pressed again, and just at that moment the doors slid open.

He stood there rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He wore a pair of boxers under the untied gown. His chest was bare, broad, muscular, stomach taut. No excess fat on him. 

"Kathryn? What are you doing here?"

"May I come in, Commander?"

He stood to the side, letting her sidle past him in wordless wonder. Once the doors closed again, Kathryn took a very deep breath. Her mouth became dry all of a sudden, her tongue growing thick and useless. But she was here and here to ask something humiliating. Chakotay, waiting for her, spoke first.

"It's 0200, Captain. Is anything the matter?"

"Is Seven of Nine here?" she asked, her voice low. Why did she even ask that? 

"Kathryn, if you're thinking - "

"No, it's alright. I respect your choices, Chakotay. I just needed a few minutes alone with you."

"At this time of the night?" 

He sounded incredulous, but an incredulity that was tainted by a worried gleam in his eyes. She noticed the quick smile that was so swift, it might not have been there at all. She thought in amazement that he could have been waiting for such a moment, for her to make some move and confront him openly about his relationship with the former Borg.

"I couldn't sleep…"

"Well, what is it that ails my captain at this unholy hour?"

She wanted to come right out and re-enact the bawdy conversation that had hitherto been playing out in her mind. But now, with the reality upon her, her resolve left her in the lurch. She couldn't find a starting point while Chakotay waited for her. He stood, hands on his hips, the open gown falling away, revealing his magnificent upper torso. Then a sudden vision of New Earth, and Chakotay standing bare-chested in the relentless sun, chopping wood. She had wanted to touch him then, but had been too afraid of breaching what had become a beautiful, if fragile friendship. And always lurking in the back of her mind then, "what if Voyager returned?"

"Kathryn?"

"We…never touched. Not in the way…lovers would." 

Definitely different from the coarse, wanton, debasing scenarios that had played out in her head. Still just as embarrassing. 

"We were never lovers, Kathryn. Your question is moot."

"I know. I - Chakotay, this is difficult for me, you must understand - "

"If I knew what 'this' is, I'd tell you if I understand. You've been here a few minutes and I'm no nearer to knowing why you're here. Unless…"

Did his eyes change their gleam or his voice its tenor? Her heart hammered. For a moment she felt like running off, making her escape while she still had her dignity intact. 

"Look, it's silly. I'll leave - "

She turned, then felt his hand clasping her arm, willing her to turn and face him. 

"What do you want?" he asked.

Swallowing her pride, scraping together the courage to speak, she gave a little sigh, then squared her shoulders. 

"Sleep with me, Chakotay."

A deadly silence reigned for a full ten seconds. Chakotay swallowed, his eyes first bulged, then narrowed in disquiet. 

"What???"

"Sleep with me," she repeated her words softly this time, as if she couldn't believe they had gushed from her mouth with so much ease. He looked stunned, but only momentarily. 

"I'm not turning back the clock."

"I'm not asking you to turn back the clock, Chakotay. Perhaps just stop it for a short time?"

And she knew what his next question was going to be before he even opened his mouth. It sat in his eyes, quivered around his lips, dented the dimple to a level where he looked serious rather than finding her proposal preposterous or a simple joke.

"Why?"

"I'm not wishing to come between you and Seven of Nine."

"Do you realise how incongruous that statement is? You want me to pause, sleep with you, then just blandly continue where I left off ? I'm involved with Seven, Kathryn. I thought you were happy for me."

"I am… I know you're about to validate something that cannot include me as your friend. I've been celibate on this vessel - "

"Not for want of opportunity!" came somewhat bitterly from him. She knew he was thinking of the times he’d wanted to draw closer to her, even kiss her, only she had gently rebuffed him every time. 

"No. But I'm the captain. Who should I bed on this ship?"

"Kathryn, Seven and I have a friendship. One I would like to keep, you know…"

"Just one night, Chakotay. Then I’ll leave you alone to pursue your goals, make your bed…marry…"

"You're begging for a fuck, Kathryn Janeway? Captain of Voyager? With your first officer? Why not get it from someone else on the ship and get it over - "

"We've shared everything the past seven years. My agonies are tied up with yours, so is my pain, my joy. You're my mentor, the only one who keeps me sane on this vessel. I'm a lonely woman, lonelier than you can imagine. You're my best friend, and yes, I am deeply sorry that this was not something we pursued years ago…"

She thought of the times she’d touched him, in friendship. That time when his mind had been taken over by the alien, she had let her hand rest on his chest. A light touch that scorched her fingers. She had been too afraid then of throwing herself over him and just having a good cry of happiness that he was back with them, with her. She had wanted to pull him up against her and let his head rest against her bosom so that she could whisper to him that everything would work out fine because she was there for him.

Friendship had become the great mask that hid her inner feelings. Too many things, past and present, that stood in the way of her going forward to be a captain who could successfully and with confidence conduct her life on Voyager as a woman with heart, with fire, with feelings. 

"As I said - "

"Yes, you can't turn back the clock. I wanted to feel what it would be like, just one night, with you. Give me a memory, Chakotay. It's all I'll take with me. We're so near home now. Then there'll be nothing for me."

It was quiet in his quarters, yet the space between them was hardly an arm's length. They stood like that for interminable seconds. Wondering with a thudding heart why he wasn't angry or laughing at her outrageous suggestion, she knew that his silence spoke volumes. She had come begging to him for a sexual favour, a one-time event that would appease her and allow him to move on with his life and what she suspected would probably soon develop into love and marriage. He had once looked at her with those eyes that begged and she had been too casual, too immersed in duty to consider that there could - should - be more to her life than just leading with privacy and fortitude and grace. 

Nodding in acknowledgement at his silence, she moved a step back, towards the doors.

"Chakotay, I see this isn't going to work. I am sorry to have bothered you. Please put it down as an aberration on my part."

Seconds later Kathryn stood in the corridor, leaving a still stunned Chakotay inside. When she reached her quarters, she went to sit on the edge of her couch, her back straight, her eyes heated, watery, her body trembling in the mortification she had brought upon herself. She had literally thrown herself at her first officer. How long she sat that way was lost in time, until she closed her eyes for a moment. She jerked awake with a suddenness, realising she had nodded off. Sighing, she prepared for bed, the sheets cooling her embarrassment, then lay staring pensively at the ceiling.

In the morning, when they were both on duty, she'd be her normal self, smiling, engaging in repartee with him, be his friend, listen to his talking about the new love of his life. She had blown it, had assumed he'd fall like a ripe pear into her lap and do her bidding. She had half expected Chakotay to tell her he wasn't a machine to fuck on cue, though she was certain that crudity was on his mind.

Come morning, she thought, she'd be back to being Voyager's captain.

***** 

PART THREE

"Good morning, Commander," Janeway said brightly when he arrived for duty and sat down in his chair next to hers. Her fingers rested on the console between them and she half expected him to touch them. It didn't naturally happen. 

"Good morning to you too, Captain. Had a good night?"

She shook her head. She hadn't closed her eyes after getting into bed and had lain awake another hour before falling into a restless slumber. 

"I could use some downtime today. An hour or two maybe, before going off duty."

He looked curious, but nodded nonetheless. His hand reached for the console and for a fleeting moment there was a touch, one that seared her to the bone. She hoped that he didn't sense how it affected her. 

"May I?" he asked and when she smiled, he entered a few commands on the console. A pause, then, "There, three hours before you go off normal duty. You only come on duty again tomorrow morning - "

"Thank you, Commander. I appreciate it."

"Glad to be of help. It's my job."

"Which you execute with joy."

"As best as I can ever do. Did you know that we have another pregnancy on board?"

That surprised her. She frowned heavily. Why didn't she know before everyone else? Usually the EMH informed her of any developments in that department. And for a moment she thought it might be Seven of Nine… But Chakotay never let on that he was sleeping with her… Her heart suddenly ached. Pulling herself together, she glanced at him, smiling.

"W-Who…?"

"Crewman Mariah Henley. Pleased as punch she is, too."

Kathryn smiled with relief. Mariah was sweet; she had become a trusted member of her crew after struggling to fit in with rigid Starfleet regulations. She was married to James Hamilton, one of Voyager's pilots and a good match it was, too.

"I should have known," she answered Chakotay, then did lean over to touch his hand briefly. 

The day wore on. She became lethargic, too tired to think anymore when she went off for lunch. Unlike other days when she enjoyed meeting the lunch time crew in the mess hall and had a few words with Neelix, she fled to her quarters to enjoy a few hours much needed sleep. 

When the cabin doors closed behind her, she relaxed visibly. Her undignified proposal behind her, it had been a little easier communicating with Chakotay on the bridge. They discussed ship's repairs, the next stop for much needed shore leave, crew job exchange programme, the pregnancies on board - B'Elanna seemed ready to pop any moment - and other mundane topics. It cleared the air between them, even though she still harboured a deep down regret that things could have been different between her and Chakotay. 

After a shower she felt refreshed. She ate a little, a reprise of the salad Chakotay had ordered from the replicator the night of his astonishing announcement, but she wasn't that hungry. Coffee didn't appeal to her right now, but a steaming cup of Earl Grey was just the right elixir to soothe her further. She was tired, she admitted to herself, and perhaps needed a good book to take to bed…? Why, that was even better than taking a lover to bed.

*

Kathryn woke slowly, sluggishly, the beeping of her vid-com sounding like a distant bell. Machiavelli's "The Prince" lay open on her bosom, her hands having slid away from it long before she got through two pages. Several moments longer, she lay listening to the insistent beeping. She realised it could be an emergency. Then again, why not hail her on her commbadge?

She closed Machiavelli, deciding he'd do for another day when she needed to justify her actions against her better judgment a few more times. Slipping into her furry flip-flops, she moved to the vid-com and flicked it on.

A message flashed across the screen. Not a face of Chakotay or Paris or Mariah as she had expected, but just a message. Her mind whirled as she read it. She grasped painfully at her bosom, trying to dim the pain that settled there. Pain? What about anticipation? came her warring thoughts.

A simple message, from Chakotay.

 _You asked for one night only. Tonight is the night. The following things I expect when I arrive_. 

She read the rest of the message, blushing furiously before closing it and deleting it from her system. Whatever it was he wanted to do with her, whatever he demanded, she balking again. There was an odd feeling of conflict – what he wanted rankled against her wanting to back out of it. 

Belatedly, she stared at the chronometer, realising it was already past 1900 hours. Had she slept so long? What time was he coming? He hadn't stipulated that. It put her in a humiliating spot. If she weren't ready as he asked, he'd leave on the instant. 

It was humiliating. She was going to put a stop to it. She didn't need degradation, self-derision, self-pity; she didn't need her body serviced in the name of friendship by Chakotay. He could go to hell. 

He did promise he'd make it good, though. After that, they could go on as before, old friends in good standing with one another, colleagues working together to get the crew home, unified in their command to assure that things ran smoothly on Voyager while they travelled home. They could play Velocity, drink coffee in the ready room or tea in her quarters, sit in the mess hall and talk to the crew, everything they had always done before.

No mess. No fuss. No high maintenance on their friendship. 

She'd be given her night; he'd be glad that he helped his captain through a bad patch of sexual craving and that was the end of that. She would come away knowing what it felt like being made love to by Chakotay. She wouldn't ask for any of it again. A one-time occurrence. He wasn't married yet; nothing had been validated except that he was definitely going to validate it sometime soon. While there was that period of grace, there'd be no recriminations, no blame apportioned, no jealousy. 

She sighed. Her life on Voyager had been celibate, notwithstanding the many times she had used other measures of erotic manipulations to excite herself. She had desired no man except Chakotay. 

She made up her mind. She wasn't going to go through with it. So why didn't she just hail him and tell him so?

Pacing her quarters didn't help either. It kept her thinking, weighing options, allowing the angel of her right shoulder to contest the demon on her left. It gave her a headache. She stood under a scalding shower and the headache abated. Still, she was in a constant state of flux, unable to find rest. Finally, she walked to her bedroom again, touched the rise of her bosom in a soft caress before giving a deep, deep sigh.

Half an hour later, Kathryn sat naked on the edge of her couch, her knees apart, her butt close to the edge. Her feet touched the floor only lightly, the heels lifted with only her toes making contact with the surface. One hand - her left hand - cupped her breast, fingers fondling the nipple to tautness while her other hand brushed her vulva in slow, light, gentle strokes. Her head was thrown back. She had been doing this for a few minutes, exchanging right hand and left hand to work and caress her body.

Her skin felt cool, the air around her like a film of mist. If she could see, the fine hairs on her skin would bristle in the invisible movement of air, of her breath that eased in little puffs from her parted lips. 

If only she could see.

A black blindfold was wound tightly round her eyes. 

It was what Chakotay had ordered. If she didn't comply, he'd leave immediately. 

Her ears pricked suddenly. The doors to her quarters slid open. She only felt the brief shaft of light the opening caused on her blindfold. She even imagined she felt the shadow in the doorway. Another sound. The doors closed. 

Her bosom heaved. A painful thudding of her heart, a pulsing that echoed excitement. Her hands stilled their movement. Her vulva felt hot, sticky, her nipples cold and hard. 

Footsteps, low, soft, like the footfalls of a silent cat of the forest floor, unseen, unheard. Yet there.

The sound of it heralded her coming release. The heat radiated from him. He was standing right in front of her. It was her cue.

"Lights, orange-white, at hundred percent…" she said in a clear voice. 

She knew how she must look to him. 

A slight tremble of her lower lip when his thumb lifted her chin, caressed it for a brief moment before he released her again. 

She heard the sound of a zipper pulled down… 

 

****** 

PART FOUR

He had expected to see her sitting where he had ordered. She wanted him and some sixth sense told him that she wasn't going to back out. Sure, he knew that with most issues regarding her ship she wrestled with her demons, her ethics, duty and command like she always did. On those occasions, command, ethics, morals, duty always won out. That was the ship. Her stunned five-second silence when he’d told her about moving on with his life had all but revealed her vulnerability as a woman. He had seen her desperation, felt it radiate from her and touch him, the truth so undisguised that he was at last made to sit up and take note. He had coated himself with the same veneer Kathryn used - friendship, to protect his bleeding senses, and to a great extent, they had both succeeded in keeping up those pretences. So much so that it seemed there was never any suggestion that they could be anything else but friends.

But Kathryn's astounding turnabout, her embarrassed entreaty to him to make love to her, proved just how much some things could never change. It was pointless denying that what lay between them required only an open confession of need and resolve. It was there, at times hidden deep where they had both forgotten those emotions existed or, at others, so close to the surface that a touch could ignite passion in a moment. He had woken up once from a deep coma under the influence of an alien to find Kathryn's hand on his shoulder. He had caught her worried glance, the momentary rush that she wanted to hold him close to her. Her hand had seared his skin and all the while she had talked of his experiences and what the crew had gone through, he had been aware of that burning touch. 

They never spoke about it, never followed through on those touches. Kathryn never let on how she felt even as they both silently acknowledged there was something. It never happened and so she carried on with the pretence that there was no chemistry, no love. 

Now he had raised the stakes and Kathryn, like the good player she was, played those stakes. She didn't disappoint.

Chakotay was aroused the moment the doors opened, seeing Kathryn's head and bare shoulders above the backrest of the couch. He walked softly up to her, around the couch, noticed the way her head cocked, the parted lips that appeared moist with need. She sat, blindfolded, totally sensual in the way her fingers circled her nipple, the other hand resting lightly on her centre. He had never seen her like this. A thought entered his head that had he seen her like this before, he would have had her in his bed and on top of him before she even blinked. He had desired her long before New Earth, and especially on New Earth when she had, in her unaffected way of moving about him, never thought just how much restraint it had cost him not to bed her in the open. Just the way her towel hugged her body had been enough to make him crazy with desire. But New Earth equalled self-control. 

Now he had her where he wanted her. She had come begging to him and who was he to refuse such an offer? 

Her bosom rose and fell in her agitated but low breathing… He touched her chin lightly with his thumb, smiling at the way she instinctively moved toward wanting more contact. But he released her, watching her closely for her reaction. Both hands covered her bosom now, her hair loose, her parted lips swollen and red with that breathless kind of breathing he knew incited her senses. He began to zip down his pants, a slow, deliberate divesting of his clothes that made her bosom heave with great agitation. 

And hell, the blindfold, an accidental afterthought when he had been thinking about masks, was just perfect. It heightened Kathryn's sense of the unknown, made him want to educe a wildness that had lain dormant too long. He was going to give her a taste of that wildness, to test her, see how far he could push her.

He studied his erect cock. It looked distended, thick, warm, hard. He heard a tiny whimper, was reminded that Kathryn had begun to lean towards him again. Smiling, he released her hands from her breasts and guided them to his waist. Her hands were conductors of passion, electrical shocks that he dared not give in to when she cupped his buttocks. He pulled her head closer to his crotch until her face was so close that her lips touched his heated cock. He gripped her chin again, his thumb caressing her mouth until her lips opened. 

"You wanted to taste me," he said, his words sounding like cracks of lightning in the silence of the cabin. 

"Yes."

"Yes, who?"

"Yes, Chakotay."

His other hand gripping his cock, he frigged himself once, a wave of passion going through him as it responded by growing even harder. The tip glistened, a tiny droplet of pre-cum hovering there. Pressing her lips further apart, his guided his tip across, the pre-cum seeping into her mouth. He groaned at the touch. Kathryn licked, her tongue finding the tiny opening at his tip, teasing, playing. He watched her closely for any reaction, grinned inwardly when she moaned as he pressed his cock further. 

"You want my cock in your mouth," he said, keeping her locked to him. She nodded.

"And any other way," he added, smiling grimly. Kathryn was eating him even when she didn't want to. 

She tried to spit him out, but he held himself there, kept her mouth filled and pushed slowly, deliberately, a little deeper. She didn't like him there, so he kept still, moving his fingers over her lips, stroking them, while one hand held the back of her head and kept her against him. Then he lowered his hand to pinch her nipple, rolling it first between his fingers and growling as it grew taut again. Her breast, creamy, full, filled his hand. 

Kathryn was softening, her muscles expanding. Once he bent so that his fingers could lave her moist pussy. He groaned when he felt how wet she was, how ready. The fight was gone and slowly he drove his penis further into her mouth, encountering no more resistance as she adjusted her position and the angle of her neck. The final moment when he sank completely into her he groaned out loud, a sound that was followed by her own muffled moan. Her hands were kneading his buttocks and then suddenly she gripped him tighter when he stopped.

It was his cue. He began pulling out, a little only before driving into her throat again, setting a rhythm to match what she was ready to give him. So every time he pulled out a little further, he pushed back into her mouth firmly, hoping that Kathryn would ride with him. He was filling every corner of her mouth, her tongue on his underside doing delicious little scouring licks. Once he was out almost to his tip, Kathryn's mouth was wide open to receive him. He waited, tip of his cock just perching ready for entry. Kathryn moaned, tried to pull him in, but he held back, teasing her. She scored his buttocks deeply as she tried to pull him closer.

"Dammit, Kathryn, but you taste good." 

Then he rammed strongly down and she groaned with pleasure as she scratched his butt cheeks. It was the cue he needed. Grabbing her head with both hands, he began thrusting lazily, allowing her to suck him, working her tongue around his cock. He threw his head back in breathless ecstasy as he rode her until he became rigid, the moment he knew he was going to explode. 

He grunted, gasped hard as he shagged her over the last few seconds of shuddering sex, giving a hard cry of release when he stiffened, then broke over the edge. There was no turning back as her throat seemed to accommodate him even more. He spilled in jerks, like a dog shaking off his milk into her. 

Gasping, for he heard her deep moans too by now, once the cloud settled somewhere near the floor, he drew out of her mouth. His cum dripped from her mouth and with sudden tenderness, he kissed her mouth, tasting his semen on her. 

In all this time, the blindfold remained on. 

When their breathing had evened, he knelt in front of her, spread her knees as wide as they could go and sucked her for a few heady seconds. He heard her cries, tasted her softness, wanted to keep eating her pussy the entire evening. But he wasn't finished. Not by a long chalk. He released her suddenly. She looked like she had eaten cream; she looked like he could continue eating her the entire night.

Lifting her in his arms, he carried her to her bed. The covers, as he had known, were pulled off. Only the white satin sheets gleamed in the orange-white light. He lay her on her back. 

"Raise your knees."

Kathryn did as she was ordered, pulling her knees up and keeping them spread so that her pussy lay exposed. Her hands were at her sides. He thought he saw her fingers tremble. Blinking, trying to curb his passion, he took in the sight of her.

Her pussy was pink, the folds quivering in the cool air. The soft curls on her mound were wet and he knew that she had climaxed when he worked her mouth. God, she had a mouth, He wanted to take her there again. But the night was still young. His mind whirled. He wanted her everywhere. His taste buds had been awakened. His cock was rock hard again. 

"God, Kathryn…" he breathed heavily as he bent her knees, bent them right to her stomach so that he could see her pussy hole and her anus. Both looked too delectable. So he hitched himself before her, gripping her thighs down against her. 

"No…"

"You seem to know where I'm going…"

"Please… I've never…"

"You want this. Your rose is calling me, Kat," he growled, nudging his tip against her anal hole. He kept nudging, growling every time Kathryn flinched and tried to move away. But he held her fast, smiling as her rose expanded. One hand briefly stroked her clit and in seconds, Kathryn's muscles relaxed. He popped in, a feeling of being sucked in as her hole closed about him. He waited for her to adjust to him. Her expression was a mix of wonder, surprise, ecstasy, of invitation. Her protest was merely lip-service for he had already noticed how she had lubricated herself for this eventuality. 

"You're lubricated as I asked…" Chakotay murmured triumphantly as he slowly worked his way up her ass, the skin stretching and stretching. Again, as with her mouth, he did his entry in increments - pulling out a little, then thrusting deeper every time. 

The last time he pulled almost to his tip, he heard Kathryn's loud groan. Her pussy was so wet and so open, the little clit pink with heat. He was lodged tightly in her. The first few times he had pushed deeper, she had given little cries of dismay. Then he waited for her to adjust. She lay still until he moved again, welcoming him. Each thrust caused a little more sleek movement. Now, pulled out furthest, he was ready to drive. 

"Tell me yes, Kat. I can feel you're crying out for more." Kathryn squirmed, wiggled against him, pushed her ass towards his cock. All the time one finger dipped inside her slit, stroking, caressing, his thumb working her clit. Kathryn cried out. 

"What is it you want?"

But it seemed she was too far gone to reply as she grunted and arched against him. 

"Hold on, Kathryn…" She grasped at the sheet, thrashed her head from side to side. With a free hand he fondled her pussy again until her juices flowed liberally over his fingers. He could feel how her anal walls adjusted to his great size. "Grip your knees, Kat," he ordered. Her hips were raised further when she complied with his command. He slid in further. He pressed both her thighs, spread them as wide as he could and rammed his dick home into her. Once lodged to the hilt, he heard her cry.

He watched her face. It looked animated, flushed, dazed with pleasure. His cockskin crawled with electrical shocks of pleasure. He was in. Then he began moving his hips, first lazily to get her used to his thrusting, then in hard thrusts, each thrust accompanied by a grunt. He heard her grunts too. On and on he thrust, his movements strong and hard. She moved with him, a thrilling feeling of joy that she was with him. She gave as much as she could by pushing into him, her hands gripping the sheets in desperation as she tried to find purchase. 

In one great heave, he spilled. The aftershocks sent him thrusting just as hard until he slowed down and collapsed backwards, his cock slipping from her. Minutes long they lay in silence, with only their breathing sounding in the air. He lifted himself to look at Kathryn. She lay like a kitten that had some milk and wanted more. Her legs spread in wanton bliss, she seemed without a care. 

He moved to lie next to her. The blindfold remained firmly in place. Her hands sought him, touched his cock that had just been driven hard up her ass, touched his face, his chest, anywhere she could lay them. He fondled her breast, coaxed the nipple into hardness.

"Shower?" he asked. To which she nodded wordlessly. 

He guided her to the shower. He spent the next few minutes washing her, resisting the urge to stick his cock in one of her orifices. He cleaned himself and without drying, he walked with her back to the bed.

"Tired?"

"You bastard…" was all she answered.

"That was not what your body told me," he replied, growing instantly hard again. 

He let her feel his arousal, guided her hands to cup him, take him in her mouth again. This time, like a hungry baby she greedily closed her mouth around his tip and played with him. He reclined against the pillows while watching Kathryn on all fours, her mouth over his cock, working him. He leaned right over her and slipped his fingers down her butt crack, right to her pussy. Her folds were wet again, sleek. Straining, he slipped two fingers inside. Something exploded behind his eyelids. He was into Kathryn in a way he had only ever dreamed, fantasised. To probe deeper into her delicious tightness, Kathryn had to slide him further into her mouth. In and out his fingers thrust until her moistness became too much and he slipped out just as he felt her body straining towards a climax. 

He heard her groan of frustration, but let her continue licking and sucking him. Her skin glistened, the dampness of it matching his own. His hair was matted to his scalp and every sucking motion Kathryn made, caused him to groan with pleasure. He stroked her hair, a gentle motion that stilled her momentarily before she moaned too. The sound vibrated along his cock, sending shivers through him. He gave a little shudder before settling again. 

Then he gently pushed her away from him, his cock popping from her mouth. Another heated wave of pleasure raged through him at the wanton look - parted, swollen, red pouty lips, a little frown of impatience that she was bereft of the sucking. She was on her knees. He resisted the urge to suck her tits, though they beckoned like two flashing beacons. Kathryn was breathing heavily, her fingers instinctively heading for her mound where she began stroking herself.

"What do you want now, Kathryn?" he asked huskily. 

"I want you here," she responded, moving along his body and positioning his cock at her entrance. 

The contact of his cock against her pussy was so electrifying that he stifled a gasp, then sucked in his breath. She was soft, wet, dripping her juices on him. 

"Still the bastard?" he asked her, the blindfold slipping down only slightly. 

"And…this…"

His heart hammered in his rib cage. He wondered if she could hear it. She knelt over his hips, an uncomfortable position to sustain. He sighed as he slowly removed the blindfold and threw it over the side of the bed. Kathryn kept her eyes closed, the light too bright to open them suddenly. 

"Lights…20 percent," he ordered softly and the next moment the semi-dark descended on them like a soft cloud, soothing their skins, Kathryn's eyes. 

She opened her eyes slowly. 

His gaze locked with hers. There was a challenge in her eyes, but a challenge tempered by need, a sense of almost-completion. She was hungry for him, reciprocating his own need of her. She had gotten over the first hurdles. She had balked at his cock deep in her mouth, in her tight ass that simply stretched and grew around his size. Just stroking her pussy had been enough to allow her muscles to relax so that he could push his engorged flesh deep into her anal passage. He had done women like that during his Maquis days. None of them had actually denied him. In fact, they played as rough as he did. He’d enjoyed those days of mindless sex games. 

Kathryn was something else. She made him want to work her over just to punish her. 

But no more. The prologue to their evening was not to be repeated. He had read her correctly, done no more than what she desired herself. She wanted him, any which way. 

He grasped her upper arms and pulled her up along the length of his body so that she lay over him. Her mouth was so close to his he thought he could still smell his cum on her. He pulled her closer and kissed her for the first time in a tender, lingering kiss, far different from earlier when he had just been licking his cum off her lips. A searing kiss - his tongue probed her mouth, causing him to swoon from the pleasure of it. She returned the insistent probing by flicking her own tongue round his. He was in a state of never-ending bliss as wave after wave of erotic impulses stormed through his body. 

Then he broke off the kiss. He gripped her shoulders to push her up. 

She looked suddenly pleading. "No more - " 

"Now," he assured her, "we make love, Kathryn." 

He almost sobbed at the relief in her eyes. Her eyes were warm, loving, the smile that started forming made his heart ache. He probed her pussy with his finger, found her clit, the little hard nub that incited his passion. She was ready. She had been ready the moment he entered the cabin. Only now, it seemed her inner walls were lubricating his hand liberally. He gripped her hips, eased her over his cock and in one sudden movement he impaled Kathryn on him.

Kathryn gave a loud cry of surprised pleasure. 

"Oh, spirits! You're tight, Kat!" 

"Let's just say I hate dildos," was all she murmured as she gazed at him with her heated, smouldering cat-like eyes.

He held her for several heady seconds to allow her to adjust to his size. He was in her, like he’d dreamed too many nights and days. His fantasy of his cock buried deep inside Kathryn Janeway was reality. He could feel his throbbing, even hers. She threw her head back in breathless ecstasy. 

He lifted her out and rammed her down on him again. So he continued the forceful ramming, so hard because it seemed as if his bliss to keep her impaled on him would never end. He wanted to sleep with his cock still in her, wanted to walk her around the room with her legs clamped round him, joined, and the movement of walking enough to push them towards spilling. He wanted to fall asleep with his cock in her. He grunted loudly, and Kathryn helped by raising herself up and going down on him with equal force. It lasted forever, he thought, until her walls became so soft and pliant that there was no sense of being separate, but joined as a single entity. His body began to hasten towards climaxing. Kathryn too, was keening faster and faster with every thrust downwards on him. He wanted to drown from rapture. 

Kathryn came first, and seconds later he joined her in climax. 

She collapsed on top of him and for long, long moments they lay breathing heavily until they calmed down, their bodies shuddering in the aftermath. When the shudders had died down finally, he felt himself softening. His cum was going to drip on the sheets he knew, but Kathryn held on to him, her face just inches away from his.

"It's alright, Chakotay," she breathed against him. "I want it like this…"

She dropped her head on his chest, sighing with bliss. His fingers caught in her glorious hair. He couldn't get enough of her, he knew. He slid his hands down her back, her skin damp. Her body was flush atop his, and for now he just enjoyed caressing her skin, her hair, kissing her mouth. 

He had wanted her for so long. Something inside him broke at last. Her body, joined to his, her readiness to take up his challenge, but mostly, the way they’d made love just now awakened the old dreams he had of her. 

He was never going feel this much at peace again. Ever.

"Kathryn…"

"Hmmm?"

"There's still much of the night left," he said calmly, yet his heart hammered in anticipation.

She lifted her head lethargically.

"So, what are we waiting for?" she asked, her eyes smouldering.

"Dinner," he replied. 

Then he whipped her up, marched with her to the bathroom and proceeded to soap her body and wash her once more. He had become hard again, and during their joint shower he lifted her and settled her on him, filling her glorious softness. No climaxing this time, just a lazy thrusting as they enjoyed their shower. They kissed often, the water pouring down their bodies, their hair, into their faces and eyes. But the good feeling of being inside Kathryn with his mouth on hers overrode any discomfort they felt. 

Half an hour later they were seated at her table, both naked under their towelling robes. They ate in silence. He realised he was hungry and knew Kathryn was too as he watched her eat her pasta. He gave a grin when he felt her toe against his crotch, fondling him while she ate. The little Kat was already whipping him into another frenzy of heated need. But he was going to take it infinitely slowly with her. 

"I hope you had a good rest today," he told her, remembering that she had gone off duty right after lunch.

"I slept like a log," she replied. "You didn’t perhaps spike anything I drank today, did you?”

"I would never drug you, Kathryn. You had to be clear-headed about accepting my pro-"

He didn’t finish his sentence. Kathryn’s toes had coaxed him to an erection. God, it felt good. He looked at her while she gripped his cock between her feet and rubbed him up and down. A slow smile spread across her mouth, her eyes filled with desire. 

"Witch…"

Later, they made love again while Old Blue eyes sang You and the night and the music. 

Kathryn filled him with flaming desire, setting his being completely on fire. 

This time he lay with his face between her legs, her hands on his head pressing him into her. He flicked her clit with his tongue. Kathryn gave little whimpers of pleasure, her body writhing with unbearable rapture. He licked, then probed his tongue into her slit, flicking in and out rapidly. Then he pressed his open mouth over her opening as her body arched up and into him. She was going to climax, so he released her suddenly.   
The release was brief as he slid up her body and in one smooth, swift motion entered her. His hands covered her breasts and he stared in wonder at her as her legs clamped around him. 

He rode her hard and soft, slow thrusts and sudden pounding until he lost control and simply heaved in arrhythmic pushing against her. Kathryn's cries came suddenly as she spilled. 

"Kathryn!!!" he cried as he too, tumbled over the edge. 

They slept after that. He couldn't remember how long, but he was awakened by a pleasant feeling of Kathryn fondling his cock into semi-hardness before he drifted off again. Later he woke again, hard, not surprised when Kathryn shifted over him and impaled herself on him. Her movements were slow, dreamy at first, then the pace picked up and seconds later, she lay sated over him.

Once during the night he woke up and watched her as she lay on her back, sleeping. His hand stole to her centre, her soft, kind core that wanted so much of him during the night. Flicking his finger to part her folds, he got her wet even as she slept and by the time she opened her eyes, smiling at him, he wondered whether she had been asleep at all as he slid into her and made love again. She was wonderful in bed with him, as open and as ready to take what he gave, ready to give what he wanted, ready to give as much back as she desired. Their bodies joining in slow lovemaking was everything he wanted, everything that Kathryn desired. Once when she had fallen asleep, she became restless in her slumber, then quietly sobbing. He pulled her into his arms and held her close until she stopped. He had no idea why she cried in her sleep, but as she drifted into slumber again, he thought he heard her whisper "I love you…" 

There had been Seska, and many of Seska's ilk before her. He had known that one day - or night - someone would touch a part of him no woman had ever touched. Kathryn stilled his raging, lonely, yearning heart.

Kathryn touched him. Skin against skin, breath mingling with breath, eyes engaging in similar intentions, smouldering together, their desires and needs mutual, they were as one. 

It was a pity that it had to end, he thought, not without some rancour. Kathryn lay sated, in sleep now as relaxed as he had ever seen her. Her hand tucked engagingly under her cheek, the other over the cover he had at last pulled over her. It was morning - 0500 - and he was due on the bridge in two hours. Sighing, he picked up the blindfold, walked with it to the recycler and got rid of it. When he returned to the bed, Kathryn hadn't moved from her previous position. 

He bent over to plant a light kiss against her cheek, then placed the peace rose right next to her hand.

It was time to go.

It was time to let go.

 

*** 

 

PART FIVE

She must still be dreaming. Her body felt warm, used, sore. Her mind whirled with images of bodies joining, bodies touching, bodies entwined in lust. Rough images, smooth ones, mostly tenderness. 

She lay on her back and stared at the ceiling. She was awake after all. Her body echoed everything that Chakotay had done to her in the night. She shivered just thinking about how they were locked together, how he filled every orifice as if he belonged there. Her body had simply said "yes" when he challenged parts of it she hadn't thought of giving to him. Yet she couldn't say with any conviction that she didn't want him to do it. She had been greedy, hungry to have him inside her. It was a strange sensation, but the way he fondled her clit at the same time heightened and sharpened the sensation ten-fold so that she actually welcomed him there. Now the tingling sensation, the delicious whirling eddies of ecstasy moving about her body made her want him again. She touched her mouth. Her lips were still tender from his onslaughts. She touched her vagina. It felt sore still, but well-lubricated and used. Her breasts were tender, her nipples hard just thinking about Chakotay's sucking them. 

She turned to her side and saw the rose next to her. The blindfold was gone. Chakotay must have recycled it. Sighing with pleasure, she ran her hands over her body again and touched the places where his hands had been. 

He had humiliated her, dragged her down to the depths of hell where surprisingly, she found the assault on her senses not distasteful. Then he’d lifted her up, making love with her like he had promised. He had sought to control her, her pleas falling before the way her body rocked with pleasure at his touch. During the night, he had been everything she desired. 

He had given her her night. She felt sore, would probably feel it for days. She even felt some aftershocks, her body shuddering just at the memory of what happened during the night. Chakotay had surprised her. When she had walked out of his cabin deciding that she wasn't going to go through with it, she had thought that was the last she'd think about it. But it wasn't to be.

Now, more than twenty four hours later, she knew what it felt like to have her first officer make love to her. He filled her everywhere. He filled her heart and her mind and, with a sob escaping her suddenly, her soul. 

Her battered soul. The one that cried out to him without her ever giving heed to those cries herself. 

It was the end of them, however. She had gambled, won briefly but now it was over. He could go on with his life and she could concentrate on overseeing Voyager's last days in the Delta Quadrant. That was the deal. She had given her word.

Chakotay was free to do as he liked.

Her hand caressed her pubic area. He was big and almost hurt her the way he filled her to the hilt. Closing her eyes, she brought to memory those images. They were strong, instantaneous, in her face. She remembered him sitting hunched in front of her and pressing hard into her. She remembered how her mouth worked to accommodate him, how he tasted and smelled, the muskiness of his sex still tingling her senses. 

She remembered how she climaxed. Full on and loud, keening wails and little whimpers that made her beg for more. 

She tasted him. 

She wanted more.

She couldn't have more.

On that thought she pushed Chakotay from her mind, got up and padded to the bathroom where she showered and tried to scrub the night's sex from her body. She scrubbed 'til her body was red from the contact and still the images kept coming, haunting her.

Later that morning, she greeted him jovially on the bridge, as if the night had never happened. She noted his puzzled expression and was glad that she could draw that look from him. It meant she had succeeded in turning their liaison into what it was - temporary and forgettable.

"Had a good night, Captain?" Chakotay asked.

"Of course. Those extra few hours off duty did wonders. Thank you."

He smiled. "No problem. You're welcome."

They were quiet after that, each immersed in their own thoughts. Whatever he was thinking, it didn't matter to her anymore. He had fulfilled his promise and she had gained a valuable experience of joining with him in love.

Love.

She shook her head mentally, willing away the traitorous thoughts that threatened to overcome her.

Who was she kidding? Sleeping with him to satisfy herself only served to make her want him more. Biting her teeth and clenching her jaw, she struggled to find composure and wondered how in heaven she was going to get through the day.

Or the next day and the next.

That afternoon she saw him with Seven of Nine in the mess hall. That evening she saw Seven of Nine entering his quarters. 

She would take away nothing of what happened the previous night. Nothing except the memory of their bodies locked in carnal lust.

He had made sure that they were both protected, had insisted that she be protected as part of the conditions he had laid down. 

That night she slept in spurts. She was more restless than ever before. Sometime during the night she got up, dressed again and walked three decks of the ship, nodding to crewmen who moved silently about their duties. She greeted, stopped to exchange a few words here and there. Then eventually she returned to her quarters where she tumbled fully clothed on her bed and resumed her restless slumber.

Who was she kidding? She loved Chakotay. She would love him forever. One night of heady lovemaking wasn't going to be enough to last her a lifetime.

In the early hours she rose again, donned a fresh uniform and made her way to the mess hall. It was semi-dark, with Neelix industriously preparing the first of the breakfasts. She wasn't interested in breakfast but was dying for coffee.

"No problem, Captain. Do sit down. I'll bring it in a moment."

Hardly three minutes later, Kathryn was sipping the strong coffee. She closed her eyes to relish its aroma. She was determined to make the day a brilliant one and starting by smelling the coffee was as good a beginning as any. She would be on duty in a short while and she promised herself some holodeck time in her free hour after lunch. She longed for Indiana at night time when she could sit on the swing seat on the porch of the farmhouse and gaze at the full moon. She'd create a Spring setting and… Closing her eyes, she remembered Molly, her setter. Molly was old now; her mother had kept two of Molly’s pups who would be grown dogs by now. "We named them Bligh and Dido, Kathryn," her mother had said the first time she had been able to communicate with her family. So, this afternoon she'd recreate holograms of the dogs and they could keep her company while she read Machiavelli. 

"Good morning, Captain," she heard a voice close to her. 

Mike Ayala. Chakotay's closest friend.

She shot him a glance, saw his worried frown.

"Good morning, Lieutenant. You look worried. Anything I can do?"

She gestured that he sit down opposite her. They were alone in the mess hall and she was glad of the lull before Alpha shift crew arrived for breakfast. Mike Ayala cleared his throat.

"If it's anything to you, Captain. Are you aware that your first officer has taken a partner?"

Her heart sank. She was aware that the crew knew about Chakotay and Seven.

"Lieutenant, I appreciate your concern, if what I sense is your concern. But you needn't worry. Yes, I am aware and they have my blessing - "

"Blessing my foot - " Ayala began then stopped abruptly. "I'm sorry, Captain. That was very untoward of me. It's just that we're all worried. They don't belong together. It's like two left shoes together and they don't match. If you know what I mean…" 

She smiled at his analogy. 

"Lieutenant, it is not my business to tell an adult, mature person whom he or she should take as a partner, regardless of how wrong I think that relationship looks. I can caution, perhaps, if I deem the relationship to affect their work seriously. But to say outright that it's wrong? I don't think so."

"Captain, forgive me. We were hoping that…" Ayala looked decidedly uncomfortable.

"Whatever it is you were hoping, Lieutenant, it's not going to happen. It…can't happen…" she said reflectively before drinking the last drops of her coffee. 

She rose to her feet. Ayala scraped his chair as he too got up. 

"You love him…" Ayala said softly. "There's not a man or woman on board this ship who hasn't seen it."

"That's enough, Lieutenant. You have said enough."

"That's all I wanted to say," he said before turning slowly and leaving her standing at her table.

 _There's nothing I can do about it_ , she wanted to tell him. I have already been given my gift. What more could I ask for?

During the course of the day, Kathryn lived in an imagined hell. She imagined every crewman she passed whispering behind her back, some giving her strange looks, some even glaring at her. She imagined she saw compassion on their faces. She wanted to hide. The best way to do that was to mingle with the crew, the same crew who looked sorry for her. It didn't help. She felt their censure, their disappointment, their anger, their compassion. Where could she go? Not the jefferies tubes, not the science lab, Astrometrics - especially not Astrometrics - , not her ready room, not her quarters. Nowhere. Her proposed holodeck sojourn seemed tedious, the joy of going there evaporating.

Their compassion was too much to bear. And Chakotay's image, his roaming hands on her body, his mouth in places she thought could never be touched by him, his manhood… 

Those images haunted her. . 

It was her own fault. Her wonderful idea meant to serve her only with a memory, did the opposite. It made her crave for more, made her body restless for release, and even more poignantly, made her realise what she had thrown away. 

"Kathryn, is anything the matter?" Chakotay asked on the bridge moments after he reported for duty.

"Nothing that a hot cup of coffee can't cure, Commander. I'm fine."

"You look somewhat anxious. You're sure you're okay?"

"Yes, I am. Thank you for your concern."

"Seven - "

"What about her? You're thinking of setting a date?" she asked, unable to mask the anxious tone in her voice.

"That depends on you, Captain. Entirely."

"I can't imagine how. It will be my pleasure to perform the ceremony."

"Well, let me get back to you on that. We want something really special…"

 _So they were intending to marry_ … A dagger with ragged points drove straight into her heart. 

She nodded without responding. A quiet descended again. Unable to stand the silence between them and the news that she'd be asked to marry them, a thought that made her feel faint with distress, Kathryn rose abruptly from her command chair.

"You have the bridge, Commander."

With those words she fled the bridge. 

In the turbolift, she leaned against the bulkhead. A burning sensation behind her closed eyelids alerted her to the fact that she was going to burst into tears. She controlled herself ruthlessly, wiping at the first tear that dared to seep through. When the lift stopped, she waited a few moments to calm down, glad for once that no one waited outside by the time the doors slid open. She stepped into the corridor, a waft of cool air just the right thing to soothe her raging emotions. 

What the hell was she thinking? She had been given a memory, alright. One that still made her body tingle with delight when she thought about their lovemaking. But not in the way she had intended. Not one where, years from now, in a darkened room, or on an alien world far, far away, or during moments of solitude, she might enjoy the recollection of entwined bodies on rumpled sheets. Not one where she could remember with a touch of genuine joy, that she had once lain in Chakotay's arms, sated from their lovemaking. Not one where, in a scenario of seeing him walking through a garden with his wife Seven of Nine's arms linked through his, she could think that he had given her a wonderful experience of mating.

She felt a mild surprise when she found herself standing outside the hydroponics bay. She hadn't been to this part of the ship in a while - if four days could be called a while - and the thought of the plants there drew her irresistibly as if they beckoned her and offered refuge like nowhere else. She hadn't consciously sought to walk here, yet in an eerie sense she felt as if someone was watching her every move, as if another invisible force had pulled her to this part of the ship. 

The place was empty when she entered, still unable to shake off the feeling of someone close. She needn't have worried, though. There was no one. Noah was probably at lunch and Samantha on duty somewhere else on the ship. Still, the plants, the rows and rows of glass tanks, completed her sense of closeness - a closeness with the plants, the various varieties of vegetables and fruit planted by Samantha and Noah. It was a stroke of inspiration that she’d appointed Noah to take charge of the hydroponics bay. He had taken to the task with a love and enthusiasm that pleased her a great deal and bore out his own entreaties that he was no murderer and killer of alien life forms. The gentle giant she called the tallest member of Voyager's crew now would do anything for her. 

Kathryn walked around, inhaling the freshness of the air in the great room, and studied the different plants and flowers and greens. A sustainability for the ship that had been proposed by Kes and in the first three years of the journey jointly tended by the Ocampan and Neelix. Three tanks grew leeola roots! Kathryn shook her head. They had all become used to Neelix's various concoctions and varieties of stews. At one point it was all they had. They had travelled through the void for two months and provisions had been down to almost nil…

Finally, Kathryn walked to the tank containing her tomato plants. With a great sigh, she put her hand in and carefully fingered a ripe tomato. Her plants. Her tomatoes. Brought back to Voyager from New Earth. They had become her little babies, too precious to eat. Many times she had promised to behead the Talaxian if he so much as touched them. He could grow his own, she’d once told him. She didn't want to be reminded that he had given her the seeds in the first place. Chakotay had teased her about the plants and she had been proud of her achievement of growing something from scratch. For the first time in her life, she had enjoyed mucking about in the dirt. Those had been carefree days and she and Chakotay had been free of care, especially after the storm, especially after the night their hands touched in their new resolve to be friends. 

She had taken to inspecting her little babies every day, willing them to grow faster and drawing mirth from Chakotay. But she hadn't minded. She had been happy. Happier than she had been in a long, long time. Because he was there and they had a fantastic rapport. 

Kathryn jumped when she heard a voice. A sudden heat filled her bosom from the shock of hearing who it was. 

"Go ahead, you can eat that one, Captain," Noah Lessing said in his deep, friendly voice. 

Noah of the gentle eyes. Noah who could never in creation hurt a fly, much less a hapless alien form. She looked up at him. He stared down at her from his great height of almost two metres. She craned her neck. 

"No, leave it for Neelix. I can bear to let them go now. I have enough seeds to start another tank. The tomatoes will go well in a tossed salad," she replied, smiling.

"They're the best growing plants here, Captain. You gave them a good start."

"Even when I thought I didn't have green fingers?"

"Perhaps that's a myth."

"Perhaps."

"Captain…" She was instantly aware of the changed tone in his voice. 

"Not you too, Mr Lessing."

"You do not know what I was going to say, Captain."

"Point taken. Okay. So, what is it, Noah?"

"Commander Chakotay is standing outside. I promised I'd break him in two if he hurt my captain. I'd like to know from you if I should let him in to see you or whether I should break him in two. Just say the word."

She stared at Noah for long seconds. Too long. Chakotay outside? What did he want? Punish her more? Drive the stake of humiliation deeper into her heart? And Noah? Mike Ayala? The rest of the crew? Did they form an assembly, a secret alliance to protect her? 

Noah really could break Chakotay in two. The tall former Equinox officer could tear Chakotay's limbs from his body or draw and quarter her first officer in the holodeck. She didn't want to face a bleeding, broken, dead Chakotay. When all was said and done, she still needed her first officer. 

With a soft sigh, she nodded to Noah. 

He moved away from her. She heard voices outside the door, no doubt Noah threatening to deliver on his promise. She heard words like "You're a dead man…". 

Seconds later, the doors slid open again and this time it was Chakotay who walked towards her with slow, deliberate steps. Her heart pounded; pain lanced through her body. 

He stopped in front of her, smiled his dimpled smile that made her heart burn with love for him. She couldn't look away, pulled into his gaze as he took both her hands in his. She gasped sharply at the contact. 

She wanted to pull her hands away but he kept them imprisoned.

"We'll be home soon, Chakotay, then I'll be out of your hair."

Not only did he keep her hands imprisoned in his, he also gazed deeply into her eyes, like she had caught him once or twice before, on New Earth, and once, when they had had dinner together in her quarters. His eyes were warm, _loving… and during the night, when she had imagined she saw love in his eyes_ …

"C-Chakotay…?" she stammered, unsure of what to make of his look of love. 

"Kathryn," he began hoarsely, "no one knows about the night we shared. I made sure of that. It was the most beautiful thing that happened to me. I'm sorry about what I did at the start." 

She nodded mutely, a tear forming and rolling down her cheek as she remembered with embarrassment the anal sex. While her body had betrayed her most traitorously by responding to Chakotay's ministrations, it wasn't something she wanted to repeat. Not with Chakotay or any other man. Chakotay continued, "It wasn't my intention, but you…you brought out the untamed in me. You did things to me that…" 

Chakotay paused, long enough for Kathryn to frown deeply, completely perplexed. Also, long enough that hope flared like a giant flame in her heart. 

"Chakotay, w-what are you saying?" she asked, too afraid to hear his answer.

"As I said, no one knows about our night of passion. But Kathryn, I was desperate - "

"No, Chakotay. I was the one who was desperate, who threw myself at your mercy, begging for a f - "

His fingers against her lips stopped the crudity from her. 

"Shhh… let me finish, sweetheart…"

Sweetheart? Her mind whirled. A sudden image of Indiana under the full moon. She must be going crazy. 

Chakotay pulled her gently into his arms and pressed her face against his chest, his hand caressing her hair, delicious little spirals of rapture wracking her frame. She daren't ask about Seven of Nine… She inhaled him like she had last night with the blindfold on when she had relied only on her sense of touch and smell and taste. She nuzzled her face in his neck, an unconscious movement which she was unable to stem. His arms were around her, holding her close, like a lover, like he loved her…

"I was desperate," Chakotay began, "for you to open up to me. I knew how I felt and because we were both hiding behind our vaunted friendship, I knew you weren't going to make a move. And I…" Chakotay's chest rose and fell as he sighed. "I was afraid to ask because you’d put me down so many times."

Her mind kept whirling. She kept seeing the full moon in Spring that induced madness. She rejoiced at his words, yet he was saying…? The realisation hit her like a bomb. 

"You tricked me…?!" she whispered incredulously, but too overjoyed to be mad at him. The moon could go to hell for all she cared. "You tricked me. With Seven of Nine?"

"It was a last ditch attempt to get a reaction from you."

"And that was what the crew knew?"

"Seven of Nine went along with my plan, Kathryn. She really is a kind friend. I knew that of all the women on board Voyager you would most likely resent seeing me with, it would be her. And she loves you, Kathryn. More than you think. She didn't want to go along at first, but B'Elanna and Tom convinced her she was doing it for the ship. For me. For you. And no, Kathryn. There was never anything between us. I never even kissed her, let alone… Well, you know what I mean." 

And suddenly, Chakotay gasped in surprise when Kathryn attacked him with her fists, pummelling his chest 'til her hands hurt. He stood there taking the punches, not stopping her. At last, the anger gone, she stopped, falling against him, exhausted but happy as his arms encircled her. She looked up at him, no longer mad. 

"I fell for it! I really believed you loved her and wanted to make a life with her!"

"Sweetheart, when I said I was moving on, I meant that I wanted to do so with you in my life, in my heart."

"And you got more than you bargained for…" Kathryn said with self-disgust.

"No, Kathryn, honey. I was overjoyed, privileged. When you came to me with your request, I tried very hard not to tell you instantly. But in my heart I rejoiced. Then I thought I wanted to punish you first… I am so sorry. Forgive me. Forgive me… I love you, Kathryn. I will love you forever. Did you think that after one night with you, I wouldn't want more?"

She stood in the circle of his arms and felt the old heat returning, returning without fear of restraining herself. Freedom gushed like a raging river through her body. It was that river that suddenly broke its banks as Kathryn threw herself against him once more and burst into tears. It was good crying, good finding release, good just being held in the arms of her lover. There would be many more nights like the night they had shared. She would be generous with her body as she knew he'd be with his. Most importantly, they would be together as one. 

Her heart sang even while her body shuddered with her sobs. All the time, Chakotay held her close, and all the time, she remained aware of how it felt like he would never let her go again. When the storm of tears had passed and she had blown her nose and looked up at him with damp eyes, she said, "I love you, Chakotay. Always."

Chakotay fell silent. His gaze was sober as he absorbed her words. He guided her palm to his cheek and felt how soft and warm her hand was. 

"Marry me, Kathryn. You will make me the happiest man if you spend every night with me."

*******   
END


End file.
